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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689732">Shadows and Sunlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterweaver/pseuds/Masterweaver'>Masterweaver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, And words must be watched with care, F/F, Fae &amp; Fairies, In which the faunus are fae</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:21:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterweaver/pseuds/Masterweaver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's common knowledge that dealing with the fae is not something done lightly. And yet, Yang befriends a shadowy figure just as her time at Beacon begins.</p>
<p>It's accepted wisdom that dealing with mortals must be done with light touch. And yet, Blake finds a human of strange interest in her quest to remain unseen.</p>
<p>An offer and arrangement are accepted, with neither knowing what this will mean for the both of them...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Wish of Happenstance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yang sighed, leaning against the wall as she looked up at the shattered moon. It wasn’t like she was upset or anything--how could she be? She was finally going to Beacon and, wonder of wonders, her little sister had managed to get in a few years early too! But... well... she had a vague sense that something had been missing. She couldn’t put a finger on it, exactly. It was almost as if...</p><p>as if...</p><p>Yang groaned. “As if I didn’t make any new friends,” she muttered. “Is that really all that’s bugging me?”</p><p>Sure, there was Jaune and Weiss, but those were more <em>Ruby’s</em> new friends--well, Jaune at least was a friend. Weiss, she couldn’t get a read on. And yeah, there were plenty of her old friends from Signal, but... well, Yang wasn’t one to diss on anybody, it was just that moving out of home, she expected to see more of the world, to become more of an adult by making friends who didn’t know all about her embarrassing teenage years.</p><p>“...this is stupid,” she grumbled. “Why am I worrying about this...?” She sagged against the wall. “I wish... I wish I could meet somebody new.”</p><p>“What an interesting wish to have.”</p><p>Yang’s breath caught as her eyes darted left, to the figure that she was almost certain had not been there before. Even as she straightened up--not quite to combat stance, but certainly to full awareness--she couldn’t help but admire what a figure it was; graceful limbs, capped with elegant hands atop and gentle paws below, attached to a body that curved lithely even as it abounded with lace and ribbons in refined attachment.</p><p>It was the face that held her attention, though; crafted with lines alluring and framed by waves of shadow, with two pointed ears accentuating the soft circle of cheeks. The smile, of course, held amusement, but to Yang’s eyes there was something about it that seemed merely painted; the golden disks, on the other hand, were almost certainly searching for something.</p><p>“...Are you...” Yang took a breath, steadying herself. “Do I have the honor of addressing a mystical being?” she asked as formally as she could.</p><p>The figure’s smile shifted slightly, growing a touch more genuine. “I am born of fae, if that is your question.”</p><p>“Right... uh... so...” Yang glanced back at the door to the building, before turning to the figure. “Hey, I guess.”</p><p>“Hello,” the figure replied, and now the grin was positively delighted.</p><p>“What are you--I mean, if you don’t mind me asking... what are you doing here?”</p><p>“At the moment? Watching a mortal stumble over her own words.”</p><p>Yang snorted, managing a small smile of her own. “That must be hilarious.”</p><p>“It might be,” the figure conceded, tone level.</p><p>“Might be?”</p><p>“As I said.”</p><p>“You know,” Yang drawled, “maybe the mortal’s heard stories about those born of fae and just doesn’t want to offend the pretty person in front of her.”</p><p>The figure’s ears perked briefly, and Yang could swear the golden disks actually shimmered for a moment. Then the face reformed to its playful standard as the fingers tipped together. “Mayhap indeed... the temper of fae has earned many tales, as I hear it.”</p><p>“And just as many stories of mortals risking that temper because of what they admire in the fae,” Yang countered.</p><p>“Would you be a connoisseur of such fables?”</p><p>Yang frowned for a moment. “I... have read a lot of fairy tales,” she answered with care. “Enough to know there are risks, but perhaps not enough to know what the risks are.”</p><p>“You may want to be careful,” the figure warned, expression serious. “Some of the fae would be quite offended to be called mere fairies.”</p><p>Yang drew a breath. “Oh-oh, I, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to--”</p><p>One hand gathered benign tittering, while the other waved her apology off casually. “And you haven’t! Not by my reckoning, at the least. You said you read fairy tales, not tales about fairies.” The alluring face leaned in with cheeky smirk. “Unless, of course, they are?”</p><p>Yang opened her mouth, paused for a moment, and crossed her arms. “It feels like there’s no right answer to this question.”</p><p>“Hmmmm...” The figure leaned back. “Perhaps you are correct.”</p><p>For a moment, the two simply stared at each other in the light of the shattered moon, neither quite sure how to progress.</p><p>“...so, uh...” Yang rubbed the back of her head. “Are you... a student at Beacon?”</p><p>The head of the figure tilted. “Why ever would you think that?”</p><p>“I mean, there’s nothing in the rules against fae being students, and you’re here, and I know team CFVY has a fae--”</p><p>“An interesting convergence of facts,” the figure replied. “I will say that I am not under such tutelage at the moment.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay...”</p><p>“Is that disappointment I hear?”</p><p>“Maybe?” Yang shrugged. “It’s just, you seem pretty interesting, and... I kind of maybe thought, if we were both students here, we could talk some more?”</p><p>For a moment, the golden disks shimmered again, fingers gracing lips in silent contemplation. The figure spiraled softly around her, ears twitching as she was examined, before the golden disks returned to peer at Yang’s own lilac eyes.</p><p>“...matters of interest...”</p><p>Yang tried to keep her nervousness off her face. “I mean, if you want to talk. I guess I can’t really force you to do anything.”</p><p>“You could not,” the figure asked, “or you would not?”</p><p>“Well, obviously I never would. It--it’d be wrong to force people to act against their will. But I’m also pretty sure I don’t actually have any ability to force you to do anything, so...” Yang rubbed the back of her head. “I mean, you’re fae."</p><p>“So I am.” The figure glanced away for a moment, one elegant hand drawing along a graceful arm. “So I am...”</p><p>“...is... something wrong?”</p><p>“Oh, many things,” the figure replied airily. “One could find complaints on any street corner.”</p><p>Yang frowned. “I meant... are you okay?”</p><p>A look of bafflement crossed the alluring face.</p><p>“Like, you seemed a bit upset for a moment there,” Yang continued. “And... if you have some sort of problem--I mean, I don’t know what I could do to help, but even just listening can help sometimes.”</p><p>“You would want to help me?”</p><p>“Well... yes.”</p><p>Golden disks narrowed. “Even knowing what you do of my kind?”</p><p>Yang let out a low breath. “I mean sure, maybe you double-cross me and I get some curse or whatever, but honestly? I could offer to help anybody I met, and still risk a knife in the back. Literally or metaphorically. That’s no reason not to help.”</p><p>The figure leaned back, assessing her anew. “Awareness... and willingness. An interesting blend, indeed...”</p><p>Yang managed a cocky smirk. “I’ve been told I’m a whole cocktail of awesome.”</p><p>Once again, a hand gathered titters. “So you seem! Very well, if you so desire to assist me, then mayhap you could arrange a rest in your lodgings?”</p><p>“Well, we don’t get dorms until tomorrow, but I’ll see if I can talk my team into having an extra roommate.”</p><p>“A careful promise,” the figure noted.</p><p>“Of course,” Yang continued, “I don’t know if they’d be happy letting a complete stranger room with them, so if I could give them a name, it’d go over much more smoothly.”</p><p>“A name...” The figure hummed thoughtfully. “...you may call me... Blake.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Path of Branches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something to be said for the wizard’s speech. How carefully it was crafted, set to imply chance when the matter of choice was foremost. And there was the matter of exclusion, or rather its lack. Whoever first made eye contact, indeed! The implication of soul, of course, would prevent most from claiming one of the Grimm, yet such mischief could well be had even with that restriction.</p>
<p>And the abruptness of the introduction. Such disarray... it would have been near impossible not to admire it, if attention were not held by the design of stealth.</p>
<p>As a matter of fact, the one called Blake mused as she whispered through the trees, she could not help <em>but</em> admire it even now. It did seem like something a fae would arrive at, yet such was to be expected from that particular one.</p>
<p>Her shadows wove round a few branches, disks of gold leading the ribbons of black and white far above the ground. She kept out of sight of the initiates that scampered about, looking for partners and pawns in their own game of merit; no, though they could amuse, her path was set after the mortal of golden locks and lilac eyes.</p>
<p>Quite well mannered she had been, and yet equally brazen in inquiry. One or the other was to be expected, but both at once was a balance delicately formed. Such alone would easily attract her attention, yet there was also a cunning to the words; a name had been granted without return, the mortal taking a thread... but not demanding. It seemed also not to be unique--the moment the wizard had mentioned the rule of eye contact, the mortal had placed shaded spectacles upon her face. A crafty circumvention, and almost certainly one that could not be objected.</p>
<p>The one called Blake raveled her form upon a perch, resting with paws and a hand as golden disks peered down upon the mortal. Questing, perhaps, for a single individual, from the way she called a name again and again. Had they made plans to meet? Or was the mortal merely wanting? The future held such mystery, and the one called Blake had to admit to interest in seeing it unfold. If only in the privacy of her own mind, of course.</p>
<p>Her eyes tracked round the mortal, noting the Grimm that were approaching; hidden by undergrowth, but attracted to the noise made by the initiate. Two, of the line Ursa, a fundament with only enhanced power to speak of. For a moment she considered alerting the mortal, but recalled she was meant to become one who hunted, and so decided to keep her tongues stilled to watch her tracking.</p>
<p>If it <em>could</em> be called tracking... No glance to the ground. No check of the trees. Only the constant cries of a name... casual, unworried. A confidence that might have been arrogance, though the one called Blake did not know enough of the mortal to say for certain--not that she <em>would,</em> of course, such would be crass beyond measure. The rustle of leaves caught the mortal’s attention, and she moved toward the Grimm that had been attracted to her voice; an awareness of the unseen, at least. And when the undergrowth parted, she expressed...</p>
<p>...amused annoyance.</p>
<p>Pointed ears perked as she trailed along a branch. The Grimm did not shift to frighten, so it would seem that the mortal had no fear to spare for them. Were it not for the night afore, the one called Blake would perhaps suspect a lack of fear at all--yet such caution demonstrated that a wariness existed. And now banter, with the two of Ursa’s line, met with fists--and weapons around, yes. A choice most interesting, enhancing the self without extension. And one the mortal had expertise in, from appearance.</p>
<p>Continued voice, continued sound, continued notice... ah. Not a tracker, then. A trapper, whose voice was bait. There was merit to such methods, if placed upon a group. One to draw, as others hounded. A bulwark, bright as sun, to keep the attention away from blades and bullets in shadow. It could have been, of course, that the mortal was <em>truly</em> a fool, but the conversation of the night afore had set the one called Blake against such assumption.</p>
<p>A Grimm fell to the assault, essence unweaving and returning to ether. She kept her distance, leaning away from the smoke as it rose; those shadows were of a harshness the one called Blake did not prefer, and of a line noted for its brute nature aside. She would take the shadows soft, if preference demanded, and of those with edge she might partake only from the subtle and cunning. Twas not as though the creatures of Grimm would serve such in either, fairness pending, but better to not risk even accidental alignment.</p>
<p>The mortal burst in fiery soul, an offense to her form rendered by the claws of Ursa. It was minor, perhaps, a mere thread of the lock, but from the roar she gave the rage was true--and the locks which remained burned in light and heat as she rent her foe. There too was merit of observance--what brought forth such could be seen and thus avoided. Was it merely the hair? Or image in totality? The one called Blake could prod later, perhaps; the point remained that she had been provided answer, at cost of Grimm which would fade in any case.</p>
<p>As easily as it had risen, the wrath subsided, and in so doing reminded the one called Blake that she had failed to watch the mortal’s eyes in the moment. Such was an aggravation--the eyes had a lure to them unusual in mortals, one not so easily noticed without observation. Where most merely had a ring of color round the dark hole, the lilac of this pair seeped even into the center, and for what she could not tell. Had she missed some shift in the moment of fire? Was the mortal different upon such burst? She berated herself silently for her oversight, even as she considered her next move.</p>
<p>Perhaps then, a test of alertness. A merit in any situation, and one that would be of grave import in the future that the mortal had chosen. The one called Blake threaded herself through the branches, twisting ahead of her quarry and shifting down the trunk of a tree. Her form was silent, her ears perked, her paws tensed as she readied... there!</p>
<p>From underbush she bound, golden disks locked upon the mortal’s form. She saw how the eyes widened, the arms moved--and halted, for a moment, before they fell. Readiness, yet adjustment, such was to note...</p>
<p>“Blake?!”</p>
<p>And a name, a name in bafflement.</p>
<p>The one called Blake allowed herself to rise, a smile gracing her lips. “Such I agreed to be attributed.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god--you shouldn’t just jump out of bushes like that!” admonished the mortal, voice laced with fading fear. “I mean, with all the Grimm around I could have shot you before I realized it was you!”</p>
<p>“You would mistake me for such demons?” the one called Blake asked, voice painted with some offense.</p>
<p>“NO! No, never, I mean, not once I got a <em>look</em> at you, but in the heat of the moment--I mean, I try not to attack before I know what I’m hitting, but there are others in the forest and...” The mortal took a breath, steadying the emotions that ran through her. “What I’m trying to say is that jumping in front of a combat-ready warrior is usually a <em>very bad idea.”</em></p>
<p>“Ah, for mortals, prechance. Lest you have forgotten...” A flurry of shadows and ribbons wrapped round the mortal, the one called Blake reforming behind her to tap her shoulder with a single finger. “I am born of fae. It would take more than your armaments to wound my essence.”</p>
<p>“Maybe, but there are weapons that <em>can</em> hurt you guys,” the mortal pointed out as she turned around. “I don’t know how many of the huntsmen and huntresses here wield them, so it’s still a good idea not to startle people, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”</p>
<p>The worry in her voice gave the one called Blake some pause. She could not help but tilt her head as she peered into the odd lilac eyes.</p>
<p>“...what? Is that really so surprising?”</p>
<p>“Your words? Hardly.” The one called Blake moved her gaze away, toward the cliffs from which the initiates had been flung. “Forgive my impertinence, but was it not said that whomsoever you first made eye contact with would become your partner?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s--wait.” The mortal frowned. “I thought you said you weren’t a student at Beacon.”</p>
<p>“Twere I to recall, I claimed not to be under such tutelage at the moment.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you--” The mortal sighed. “Wait. This is an exact words thing, right? You weren’t a student then because you hadn’t technically ever ‘studied’ at Beacon.”</p>
<p>“That is one interpretation,” the one called Blake allowed with a sly smirk.</p>
<p>The mortal crossed her arms. “Right. Well, if you are my partner, then we should get looking for those relics.”</p>
<p>“And what if I am not?”</p>
<p>“Then I’m going to go looking for those relics and you can tag along if you want.”</p>
<p>That earned an amused hum from the one called Blake. “Some would say that to offer companionship without name is the height of rudeness.”</p>
<p>“...Oh, right.” The mortal chuckled for a moment. “Where are my manners... you can call me Yang.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Sip of Insight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m going to go get something to drink. Do you want anything?”</p>
<p>“I desire the peace of moonlight upon a dew-tipped glade.”</p>
<p>Yang rolled her eyes with a grin. “Well, I don’t think I can get you <em>that,</em> but if you want something <em>to drink,</em> I might be able to arrange it.”</p>
<p>"A means by capability,” Blake acknowledged. "If I may assess your tastes with my own offering, I might find deeper understanding.”</p>
<p>“I--uh...”</p>
<p>Blake sighed. “A cup of whatever you claim shall suffice.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Right.” Yang nodded, giving the fae an awkward smile. “I’ll get that and... I’ll be back. Soon.”</p>
<p>She broke off from her partner, maneuvering through the crowd of students as she rubbed a hand. Sure, Yang had heard fae were... difficult, but she hadn’t realized Blake would be so... Blake-y. For the most part her partner was fun to talk to, but every once in awhile Yang got the sense that Blake was keeping emotions hidden. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, some people were very private, it just... bothered her that she couldn’t tell if Blake was upset or not.</p>
<p>Then again, she mused as she came up to the drink table, she wasn’t the only huntress who had to deal with Fae.</p>
<p>“Excuse me? You’re Coco Adel, team CFVY, right?”</p>
<p>“That’s me,” the beret-wearing woman confirmed, peering over her shades. “Oh, yeah, you’re the blonde on RWBY, huh? Yang Xiao Long?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. So, uh...” Yang glanced around. “I don’t know how awkward this is to ask, but... my partner’s Fae, and I’m not sure if I’m getting on her nerves or... what I’m trying to say is, do you have any tips for working with Fae? I know you have one on your team, so--”</p>
<p>“How <em>did</em> I know you were going to be asking that.”</p>
<p>Yang shrugged. “Eyes, experience, and half a brain add up to great intuition.”</p>
<p>Coco huffed with a smile. “Aren’t you a cheeky girl. Alright, rule one--no, wait, rule <em>zero:</em> All the rules are guidelines. You want to follow them most of the time, but there are always exceptions, and the exceptions are always important. Unless they aren’t. It’s... complicated and contextual. You still with me?”</p>
<p>“Yep,” Yang replied with a nod, absently pouring herself a drink. “Sounds pretty normal so far.”</p>
<p>“Sass, got it. That <em>could</em> be useful...” Coco mused, rubbing her chin. “Okay, so the <em>actual</em> rule one is this: Definition is Anathema.”</p>
<p>“You’re going to have to clarify on that.”</p>
<p>“There’s this whole philosophy about how rivers don’t exist, they’re really just a bunch of water droplets that all happen to be going the same direction. It’s a bit much to wrap your head around, but the point is Fae don’t like being told what they are. At all.”</p>
<p>Yang tilted her head. “...okay?”</p>
<p>“No, see, it’s like this: If I say ‘you are a good person,’ that’s actually <em>degrading,</em> because that’s me saying ‘you <em>are</em> this.’ No room to maneuver.” Coco shook her head. “Some Fae will decide to double down and be annoyingly good, others might go evil out of spite--the point is you don’t say things like ‘you are’ to Fae. You say things like ‘You <em>seem</em> like a good person,’ or ‘I <em>think</em> you’re pretty,’ or ‘<em>maybe</em> eating so much chocolate is a bad idea.’ Give them room to accept the statement on their own terms.”</p>
<p>“Oh... oh!” Yang snapped her fingers. “Is that why they’re always ‘such might be a good idea’ and all that?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. They’ve got some subtler tricks too--’Some would say such and such’, but without specifying who ‘some’ is or why they’d say such and such it could be that the some is lying or was bribed to say whatever or they’re misinformed...” Coco rolled her eyes. “Velvet has tripped me up with that one more times then I can count.”</p>
<p>“Tripped you up?”</p>
<p>“Yep. Rule two: The dance of words. There’s what a Fae says literally, then there’s what they want you to hear implied, then there’s what they actually mean. Every layer you hear earns you respect from the Fae.”</p>
<p>“It’s... a game to them?”</p>
<p>Coco waggled her hand. “Sort of? It’s a combination of a game and a defense mechanism. You see...” She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the room for a moment, before she leaned in. “Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, alright?”</p>
<p>“...sure,” Yang agreed in confusion.</p>
<p>“Okay, the Fae? They’re not as in control of their magic as they let on.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You know how different Fae look different from each other? That’s because their form is actually a reflection of their self-identity. It’s kind of why they don’t like to be defined by others--figuring out ‘who you are’ has an actual, visible impact on how a Fae looks and what they can do. It’s a little chaotic, so they layer their conversations so they can enforce introspection between each other and with mortals. You need to be defined to exist, but if you’re defined by others then your existence is tied to their whims. You got that?”</p>
<p>“I mean... that’s pretty much true of anybody, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes, but for the Fae it’s a part of their very existence.”</p>
<p>Yang rubbed her temples. “What I’m hearing is ‘give the Fae their space and pay attention to what they say’ which kind of strikes me as basic relationship advice.”</p>
<p>“I... well... you’re not wrong,” Coco admitted, “but it’s kind of.... Okay so when Velvet first came here she was pretty avoidant of confrontation, to the point where she literally did not have a mouth to speak with--she could talk but it was always quiet and gentle. And then one day, I made the mistake of saying I had the best-made outfit in the team, while this Fae that was literally <em>made of cloth</em> was standing <em>right there</em> and--”</p>
<p>“Oh Coco,” purred the limber plush that had padded silently up behind her, “of what do you speak?” A soft hand clasped the huntress’s arm, and as Yang watched small sewing needles pierced the tips to tap playfully on her shoulder.</p>
<p>“Oh hey Velvet. Yang here asked me for some advice with her partner.” Coco gestured toward Blake, who was busily circling team JNPR with an amused grin. “I just thought she could use a framework for understanding, uh... things.”</p>
<p>“Mmmm.” Velvet’s button eyes watched the shadowy Fae, before turning back on Coco. “A worthy task, I suppose. Though some would find bringing up certain <em>incidents</em> without permission to be a matter of... personal disquiet.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess it could be embarrassing...” Coco allowed. “Would a trip to the clothiers this weekend be a suitable apology?”</p>
<p>“It might, at that.” Velvet retracted her needles back into her hand, before turning to Yang. “And for you, I believe, a hint.”</p>
<p>Yang blinked, glancing at Coco for a moment. “Uh... if you’re willing to give one, I guess I could listen?”</p>
<p>“Your partner is formed of shadows, and shadows usually involve secrets. She may have them, or know them, or be able to find them, or seek to expose them. Perhaps a mix of all. Whatever the case, I would suggest against prying for the moment; if she feels the need to share, she will find rest in your shadow soon enough.”</p>
<p>“...Got it.” Yang nodded. “Thanks.”</p>
<p>Velvet smiled, a seam bound loosely by long stitches. “You’ve interest about you in many forms, Yang Xiao Long. How it continues should be worth observing.” She turned and left, the pennants serving as her ears sweeping behind her.</p>
<p>“Hey hold on,” Coco demanded as she followed, “how come you never gave <em>me</em> any of those hints?”</p>
<p>“She sought assistance in this matter, whereas you, I believe, never did.”</p>
<p>“What?! I--huh... I could have sworn...”</p>
<p>Yang shook her head as they disappeared into the crowd. Then she looked at the cup in her hand and blinked. “Oh crap, right, the drinks!” She quickly poured another two cups, carefully balancing them as she headed toward Blake. “Hey, sorry for the wait, I got caught up talking with one of the older students.”</p>
<p>“So I noticed,” Blake replied, looking down at the cups. “An odd number, for an even set.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I felt it--it <em>might</em> be best,” Yang adjusted quickly, “to have an extra. In case anything happens.”</p>
<p>Blake’s eyes shimmered as she took a cup, looking at her carefully. “Now there is a precaution I would not have expected.” She sipped the drink thoughtfully, humming in appreciation. “And just what is this called, might I ask?”</p>
<p>“Strawberry Sunrise.” Yang smiled. “Some would say it’s the best drink you can find in Vale.”</p>
<p>Another titter escaped Blake’s lips. “Ah, now I see your machinations! A move quite basic but,” she assured her quickly, “most appreciated.”</p>
<p>“...Am I really that obvious?”</p>
<p>“For the moment.” Blake held out her cup. “A toast, to your growth, wherever it may lead.”</p>
<p>“And a toast to your self,” Yang replied, tapping the cup with her own. “Whatever you might find.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Mix of Awakenings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>From beneath the quilted sheet whispered ribbons and lace, crawling up the pillow onto the wooden headboard. One suspended up as a vine, rippling while the others tangled upon it. Shadows swirled along the structure, slipping up a bundle to a crossweave and roiling out in lazy waves. Some spiraled to the raised tip and circled round, forming a maw gaping as large as the pillow below with teeth as long as fingers. A deep reverberation rumbled along the whole before the maw was enveloped by even more darkness, tides of black swelling out from the arch of a form now clearly possessing the style of human shape. Two pointed triangles swiveled away from the front of the leading spheroid, revealing golden disks afore they traversed to the top.</p><p>“Good morning, Blake!” chirped a bright voice.</p><p>The one called Blake hummed in annoyed amusement as her form wove to its standard solidity. “And what may be good of it, Ruby?” she inquired. “Is it that which you offer as gesture, an existence regardless of opinion, a commentary of your own state upon it, or perhaps a calling to merit?”</p><p>For a moment, the mortal with blood-red hair considered her words. “Well, I guess all of them at once? Plus it’s our first day at Beacon! As real huntresses! Well, almost real huntresses, I guess we don’t have licenses yet, but you know what I mean right?”</p><p>“It would seem obvious,” the one called Blake agreed, glancing about. There, to her left, Yang was mumbling in a half-daze as she moved from her bed to an upright stance. The way her golden locks swayed in the raising light of the sun provided a most enthralling motion to watch, a patchwork of glimmers and sheens as kin to the rustling of brush as anything the Fae could accurately claim to have seen. Wouldst such light be of ease to capture, were it to scurry free? A matter for a time yet, she decided; better to make sense of all with whomst she lodged afore engaging such entertainment.</p><p>“Yeah, I thought it would, but I just... you know, wanted to make sure,” said Ruby, twiddling her fingers together. “Because... uh... sometimes you have to know what you’re saying to know what you’re meaning? What I mean is, obviously we’re not huntresses yet but we’re going to be and that’s exciting well at least I think it’s exciting and if you’re not excited that’s fine because some people don’t get excited over the same thing and I just don’t know where I’m going with this sentence so I’m going to stop now.”</p><p>“I’ve noticed you charge headfirst into many things,” the one called Blake noted. To her right, still in slumber, lay Weiss Schnee, and what a name that was! Only one name she had heard could be more fitting for the frostweaver still abed, and it lay in claim to the elder holding. In wakefulness the mortal had moved in time with her Dust and soul, morso than even with her blade. Or rather, her blade had been conductor for the dance of extension, a mere lead to wonderment following in the battle with elder Grimm. It would perhaps be a song worth remembering, if only it had been tuned alongside those about.</p><p>Ruby chuckled, running a hand awkwardly through her hair. “Yeah, well, I kind of... you know, I just feel this need to get in and help where I can, you know? And I guess I don’t always think about how that could be... how that could turn out, so...”</p><p>And then there was her! A godling! Of youth besides, both by her current life and that of the other mortals, and yet charged with those she lodged! What reasons the wizard had... well, some were obvious and others less, yet the one called Blake could not help imagining a twinkle of humor when such he declared. She had risked, briefly, a glance at those mirrored eyes, and quietly thanked the fates that the power still remained untapped. Oh irony of ironies, to seek refuge and find rest not only within the den of ancients, but with such a blinding torch set as charge to bed, board, and breadth!</p><p>The one called Blake could picture the wizard even now, cackling in his tower at the way he had made the fates dance to his tune...</p><p>Fairness pending, Ruby Rose was as genuine as the first flowers from frost; her wish for betterment was true, and her love of life was pure. The potency she had contained was cause for caution, but her actions and expressions put the one called Blake at ease--in the moment, at least. There was little doubt that among those who lurked were some that would seek to break her, in heart or soul or body. Was she even aware of what her eyes bound? Whomst would bring such revelation? Had the wizard placed the one called Blake here for such purpose?</p><p>“Uh...” Ruby glanced around awkwardly for a moment, before drawing herself up. “Right, Blake? I know that Fae don’t like orders, usually, but I am the team leader. So I might need to order you to do things sometimes. So... how should I do that? Are there things I shouldn’t say, or some way I should phrase things?”</p><p>Pointed ears turned as golden disks focused on the mortal. In half a second the one called Blake had bounded from her perch on the headboard to inches away from Ruby’s face, which nearly flinched but did not lean back.</p><p>“...You are not the first to require charge,” she said slowly, peering into the girl’s soul with intensity born of clouded nights and hungry blades. “But to ask such... that is a boldness I’ve rare encountered.”</p><p>“I, uh, was trying to be nice,” Ruby replied carefully.</p><p>“Hey, Blake?” Yang interjected. “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t challenge my little sister to a complicated powerplay when she’s being considerate.”</p><p>Pointed ears flicked for a moment. Then the one called Blake leaned back with a small smile. “If I am attributed to a name, then a name may be attributed to fair command.”</p><p>“And if I say something wrong, I... can ask you to tell me, so I won’t do it again?” Ruby asked.</p><p>“There is merit in your suggestion,” the one called Blake admitted. “Very well, I shall consent to such--though to ask when no offense is taken could be a most detracting event, it might seem.”</p><p>Ruby nodded for a moment. “Okay. Thank you.” She looked at Weiss with a frown. “Alright, now we need to wake Weiss up.”</p><p>“That shall be a matter of ease,” the one called Blake proclaimed, wafting over the frostweaver and settling aside her head. From here she could see well the single scar o’r the eye; without such the mortal might have been mistaken for fae herself, her flesh as porcelain as it was.</p><p>“Uh, Blake?” Yang said. “Can I ask what you’re planning over there?”</p><p>The one called Blake did not reply with words, instead allowing the shadows that framed her face to rise, and rise, and rise, blocking out the light of the window and the fixture above. Weiss fidgeted in her sleep, eyes blearily opening, and was greeted with a smile as long as her forearm and filled with obsidian daggers.</p><p>A flash of soul sent the fae spiraling across the room even as the frostweaver sat up with a heaving gasp. By the time the one called Blake had reformed on the shelf, giggling as a brook under starlit trees, the look of fear had shifted to an incensed glower. “THAT WASN’T FUNNY!”</p><p>“Oh?” The fae cocked her head, her smile maddeningly painted with innocence. “Such certainty!”</p><p>“You--! ...ahem.” Weiss took a breath, controlling herself. “I did not find amusement in that event,” she stated levelly.</p><p>“Very well,” the one called Blake offered, “If you truly wish it, I shall never wake you again.”</p><p>“I do not wish to be awoken to the sight of a large mouth,” Weiss said firmly.</p><p>“Aaaaaaah, so it becomes clear.” The one called Blake tipped to the ground, perched upon a single paw as she bowed deeply. “The large mouth shall remain out of sight, as you decree.”</p><p>“Ya know what?” Ruby declared. “Tomorrow, I’m just going to use my leader whistle to wake up Weiss.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Talk of Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So..." Yang rolled her shoulders, glancing back at the classroom they had left. "Weiss, huh?"</p><p>"What of her?" Blake asked, head half tilted.</p><p>"She just soloed that Boarbatusk," Yang pointed out. "But it... didn't seem to make her all that happy, she seemed real annoyed with Ruby."</p><p>Blake's contemplative hum rippled through her shadowy form. "Such is true..."</p><p>The blonde nodded quietly as they walked along, trying to figure out what it was she wanted to say next. "It's just... I don't know, it kind of seems like it would be hard for us to be a team if Weiss wants to do everything on her own."</p><p>"Perhaps indeed... And yet," the fae mused, "such arrangement might be seen as temporary."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"We are bound here and now by the design of this school. To learn a craft, true, and one with great cause. Yet nothing holds us beyond the end of our schooling." Blake unfurled a hand. "Perhaps this is the view of the frostweaver, to become grand upon her own merit, and so our presence is but tolerated for the moment."</p><p>Yang frowned to herself. "I... I never really thought about it like that. My dad's a Huntsman, and he stayed pretty close with his teammates." She rolled her eyes. "Very close."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Ruby and I wouldn't have been born if team STRQ wasn't a thing. So I guess I always felt like a team should be a family." She shook her head. "The idea that we could just... drift apart... I don't know, it feels wrong."</p><p>Blake seemed to pause for a moment. Then, without warning, she burst into ribbon and lace, face reforming inches away from Yang's and golden disks boring into the blonde's own eyes.</p><p>"Uh--wh...what are you doing?"</p><p>"...I'd presumed a found bond," the fae muttered. "Strong, forged well. Yet..."</p><p>Yang scowled, pushing Blake back. "Ruby and I are <em>sisters,"</em> she declared firmly.</p><p>"Of that, I never doubted," the shadowy being assured her. "The bond between you two is strong and true. But to hear you claim blood ties--"</p><p>"We had different moms, alright?!" Yang snapped. "My dad's first wife left!"</p><p>Blake peered at her for a moment or two longer, before bowing her head. "There are... matters of blood you do not share," she offered, "but matters of soul are of deeper import, and it is clear by that count you are sisters. I never meant to imply otherwise."</p><p>Yang took a deep breath, steadying herself. "...I heard a lot of backtalk and insults when I was a kid," she explained. "It always hurt when people thought... thought I couldn't care for her."</p><p>"I will never say you two are not family," Blake promised. <em>"Faecoeren teimleya."</em></p><p>The blonde nodded at that, rubbing the back of her head. "Right. Just... yeah." She crossed her arms. "So... matters of blood we do not share, huh?"</p><p>"Magic bound to her line that is not bound to yours," Blake explained.</p><p>"What, like a curse?"</p><p>"...some might call it that," the fae allowed.</p><p>Yang narrowed her eyes. "Will it hurt her?"</p><p>"No. Nor," Blake added with annoyed preemptivness, "will it transform her, drive her mad, or inflict upon her affections she does not create. It is merely a mark of an ancient being."</p><p>"So does she have some great destiny or something?" Yang pressed. "Like a prophecy she has to fulfill or an ancient kingdom or...?"</p><p>"By the stars, no!" Blake smiled playfully. "Your concern is touching, truly, but the power your sister holds shall bring no fate upon her she does not already seek!"</p><p>"The power she holds?"</p><p>Blake huffed, her ribbons lacing around each other. "Fie and flame, must you ask of all I speak? Ruby Rose is safe, and safe to be around. If such changes, then such shall I tell, but there is nothing in the moment that demands!"</p><p>"...fine," Yang grumbled. "I guess asking a fae to tell me <em>everything</em> upfront could be considered rude."</p><p>The shadowy figure eyed her for a moment. "...If it matters, I can say this: the headmaster is aware of her power as well."</p><p>"What? Ozpin knows--" Yang cut herself off with a groan. "Of course he knows. He lets fae into the academy, of course he'd know about magic."</p><p>Blake hummed quietly, examining her own hand. "He has reason to."</p><p>"I guess so."</p><p>The two of them walked on in silence, trailing down the hall toward their dorm.</p><p>"...so..." Yang cleared her throat. "Do you really think Weiss just thinks of us as, uh, temporary partners?"</p><p>"For the moment." Blake tilted her head, ears twitching. "Although... some bonds deepen with time. And there is much she can learn from us that she cannot merely be taught by the academy."</p><p>"She'd have to <em>want</em> to learn, though." Yang shook her head. "I remember I used to be a stubborn little moron as a kid. If I couldn't figure out how to use the subject, it wasn't important to learn."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Yeah. Of course my uncle Qrow was always a crafty sneak. He'd always tell us stories about his big Huntsman adventures whenever he dropped by, and it always <em>just so happened</em> that part of the story involved one of the subjects I wasn't taking seriously in school." She let out a fond little snort. "Math's not important? He'd mention how he used geometry to throw his weapon and kill five Grimm in one blow. History is boring? Oh, yes, on his last mission he rescued people by hiding them in this or that ancient city. Biology sucks? 'Let me tell you squirts about the time I accidentally ate poison berries!' I didn't realize what he was doing until I was eleven, and when I did it was like... it all clicked."</p><p>"He does sound like quite the character," Blake mused.</p><p>Yang laughed. "Oh, yeah, he's a real piece of work. Ruby loves him, of course--she based Crescent Rose off of his weapon, just so she could learn how to fight with a scythe like him. And he..." She smiled fondly. "He... helped us all, during a rough part of our life... yeah. Good man. Not perfect, not by a long shot, but he's a good guy."</p><p>Blake considered her for a moment. "...Perhaps I shall meet him one day."</p><p>Yang grinned at her. "Perhaps indeed."</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. A Taste of Bonding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gathering to share sustenance was not in any manner a new idea to the one called Blake. That mortals did so daily, though, had been something of an astonishment, till she realized their flesh required such to continue. That at least revealed why they ate their food melted and dead, instead of sprouting and living; ever the shell, never the soul. The one called Blake could admit the preparation held visual appeal, and the mix of scents was interesting enough. Yet for herself, she deigned only to partake of the starflowers so thoughtfully wheeled in every morn, sipping lightly of their captured essence.</p><p>Oh how the wizard must have schemed--not just for herself, but all born of fae who came. To share the space, and e'r have sup, so to make them seem akin to those about even beyond form...</p><p>It was clear the frostweaver knew the exact purpose of this construction, her quiet scoff upon first seeing the starflowers made that obvious. And from the eyes of those whom roomed cross the hall, the only of them that did not suspect was, ironically enough, the bright leader, though they held no disdain and, in point of fact, found the effort to be well worth their while. Even now, the joyous maniac wove a tale to enrapture, with her silent-eyed companion providing correction.</p><p>"So! There we were, in the middle of the night!"</p><p>"It was day."</p><p>"We were surrounded by Ursai."</p><p>"They were Beowolves."</p><p>"Dozens of them!"</p><p>"Two of 'em."</p><p>"But they were no match... and in the end, Ren and I took them down and made a boatload of lien selling Ursa skin rugs!"</p><p>"She's been having this recurring dream for nearly a month now."</p><p>"Oh what a pair you are," the one called Blake decreed, idly stroking the petals of a starflower. "How well you seem to know each other, that even when your mind is locked in slumber it holds no secrets from the other."</p><p>"Yeah," Yang acknowledged with a smirk, leaning in. "Are you partners, or are you <em>partners?"</em></p><p>The joyous maniac's eyes widened, and she waved her hands in warding. "We're not--not <em>together</em>-together!"</p><p>"Perhaps not in definition, yet such bonds form long before they flower," the one called Blake reminded them. "Twere I to speculate, I'd lay the matter afore time and assume it returned shortly."</p><p>Yang nodded in agreement. "You two are really kind of obvious."</p><p>"Such a matter would be something we would decide on our own," the silent-eyed one pointed out firmly. "We might have our own reasons to avoid... that sort of thing."</p><p>"Yeah! And what about you two?" The joyous maniac looked pointedly between them. "Are you more than partners?"</p><p>The one called Blake let her gaze join with Yang's, and within them both she felt the same amused nonchalance at such accusation. How blatantly the joyous maniac had tried to spin their observation round, how foolishly she had anticipated embarrassment, such avoidance so obvious as to be no deflection at all! And yet, in the mischievous grin Yang developed, the one called Blake heard the herald for even more entertainment, and answered the call with a curl of her own lips.</p><p>"What wonderous eyes you have!" she decreed as she turned back. "To spot such when none other hath even suspicion, aye, such could be called astounding!"</p><p>"How in the world did you notice?" Yang begged, swooning dramatically into the arms of the one called Blake. "Even <em>I</em> didn't know we were madly in love!"</p><p>The joyous maniac grinned deviously. "I am an <em>expert</em> in madness of all sorts."</p><p>"In what way was that obscured?" the one called Blake inquired.</p><p>The silent-eyed one sighed. "It never was."</p><p>Yang guffawed at that, pushing herself back to an upright position and shaking her head. "Well, if we're in a romantic relationship, Blake hasn't told me yet."</p><p>The one called Blake tilted her head, lace crawling down her shadowy arm. "To suggest that duty falls to me implies many things, Yang Xiao Long. Twere I to ask which you meant by that, what reply twould I receive?"</p><p>"Only that I have no idea if you're crushing on me." Yang frowned. "I mean, if you are and I haven't noticed, it's probably because I don't know all the ins and outs of fae flirting--not that that's your fault!" she reassured quickly. "Or, uh, that fae courting rituals are unimportant, this is just me not knowing something, not me saying it's at all bad and... uh..."</p><p>She noticed the amused smile the one called Blake had formed.</p><p>"...Speaking of which!" She crossed her arms, quirking a brow. "Have you ever dated anybody, Blake? Fae or otherwise?"</p><p>"...I have courted and been courted," the one called Blake replied, though the shimmer of her eyes dulled. "That is all I deign to say on the matter."</p><p>Yang considered her for a moment, carefully putting a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at the appendage, before letting her eyes drift to the mortal. How strangely observant this one was, at least in matters concerning her partner; the one called Blake did appreciate it, true, yet at the same time she could not fathom we'er twas the result of their difference or, in point of fact, a deeper truth. Perhaps in the moment it mattered little. Perhaps...</p><p>Nay! Such path was to be avoided! This she knew. This... she knew...</p><p>The one called Blake looked about, eyes roving the dining hall for any form of distraction. It was to her displeasure that she found what she wanted, in the form of another born of fae; Scarlatina, twere she to recall, bothered by one assortment of mortals whose souls had not grown nearly as much as their bodies.</p><p>Yang followed her gaze and sighed. "It must bother you a lot when people act like that."</p><p>"Must it?"</p><p>"Well, it bothers <em>me,"</em> she grumbled. "I mean... fae are people too. It's not right to treat them... you... like that."</p><p>"What is right does not often matter so much as what is tolerated," the one called Blake pointed out dryly. "Though I agree, that Scarlatina allows these boors to taunt her without reaction feels incongruous."</p><p>"Some people just don't like confrontation," the joyous maniac pointed out.</p><p>The one called Blake examined the rest of those who roomed cross the hall. The silent-eyed one, certainly, seemed to repress any such urge. And for all her mastery of conflict, the honorbound felt too polite to inflict it. For the joyous maniac to bow to such choice showed a care that perhaps resided in depth. That there was no rise from the bright leader, though... that concerned, to a degree somewhat unnerving.</p><p>A matter, perhaps, of their own team's design. The one called Blake declined to interfere, for the moment. It might behoove to assess again upon later date.</p><p>Still... her eyes turned toward Scarlatina again.</p><p>"...I believe I've a matter to attend," she decided.</p><p>Yang blinked. "Uh, Blake, if Velvet doesn't want to cause a scene--"</p><p>"Then I shall ensure none witness," the one called Blake replied. "Few walk 'neath the shattered moon."</p>
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